Released
by excusemeb
Summary: Eric complies with Pam's request. One shot. Based off of that angst-filled E/P S5 preview. Rated for language.


**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

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Pam climbed off the top of the bar where Eric had been interrogating her, and followed him as he retreated from the bar area. She was _not _letting him off the hook that easily.

_**It's not enough, it's not enough for both of us**_  
_**This love I feel won't reach into your heart.**_

She was sick and tired of being yelled at and ignored, and for what? For protecting him, trusting him, loving him? For doing what she was supposed to do, what she felt _compelled _to do, even after being hurt - emotionally and otherwise - by the very one who had set all of this in motion?

_**It's not enough, it's not enough for now**_  
_**When I open up, it leaves me in the cold.**_

And to top it all off, now he didn't trust _her_? How ridiculous! Who _was _he, and what had he done with her maker?

Pam fought for control over her emotions as she started, "A century together and never _once _have I ever did anything to hurt you, to hurt _us_.

Not _once _have I _ever _been disloyal to you. Since the moment you made me yours, Eric, all I have ever been guilty of is loving and trusting you with reckless abandon. I've been loyal to a fault, utterly devoted to you, Maker, with complete disregard for everything and everyone else, including - especially - myself.

Now you're physically threatening me over something you could just simply command me to answer truthfully.

I don't even know who you are anymore."

_**I'm finally mad, like a rush of blood to my weary head**_  
_**No longer sad, the emotional tide has turned**_  
_**And I see red.**_

He hadn't even turned around to look her in the eye yet. _That's it_, she decided, _I'm done_. She would not continue to subject herself to his instability. She had never felt the urge to leave his side before, but something was building up inside of her, and suddenly, she snapped.

"If you can't trust me more than _Bill Compton_, or a werewolf for Christ's sake, then release me and get it over with."

Eric stopped in his tracks and turned to face Pam.

_**Heard you clap your hands**_  
_**'Cause I am joyfully and most bitter mad**_

_I've got your attention now_, she thought bitterly.

"Just say the words and we're through: as your maker, I release you," her voice broke.

_**I hope your heart is glad**_  
_**Oh, sweet relief that you've always longed to have**_  
_**'Cause that's what you wanted, that's what you wanted**_  
_**All along.**_

She steeled herself and ground out acrimoniously, "Say it and we're done."

"SAY IT!" she screamed, tears threatening to spill.

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. Honestly, Pam wasn't sure what she expected him to say or do, but he was just standing there, staring at her blankly. She debated over throwing something at him: a chair, a table, her pumps - actually, for a brief instant she wished she had that rocket launcher perched upon her shoulder.

Then he finally spoke.

"Pam," he started then paused, vacillating between what he wanted and what he knew needed to be done.

_**Though it hurts inside to find my pride so altered,**_  
_**I'll let you go to find your way alone.**_

Six words. That's all it would take.

Then she would leave his side.

Forever.

He didn't doubt that it would be forever because if he released her now, like this, he doubted they would ever be able to reconcile, no matter how long they lived. She would _never _forgive him because she would not understand his intentions, she would never know that he was doing this for her safety.

At that very instant, Russell Edgington was likely plotting his revenge against, and searching for, them all: him, Pam, Bill, and even Sookie. If Eric released his child now, she'd leave instantly and would remain gone.

Their bond, like her heart, would be broken beyond repair.

The one and only good thing about the outcome was the fact that she wouldn't be able to feel it when he died at that psychopath's hands, and therefore, she wouldn't run back home to him, her maker, and do anything rash. Instead, she would be safe. Forever.

That's the bet he was hedging.

It was either that, or watch as she was tortured and killed before his eyes, which is what Russell would certainly do, considering what Eric had done, and Eric didn't think he was strong enough to withstand that: children weren't supposed to die before their makers. Of course, that was the main reason they were in this predicament. Russell would demand recompense for what was taken from him: his lover, his _child_. Eric knew all too well that there was nothing that could ever replace that, or at least, he was about to find out.

_**Though it hurts inside, I'll summon all my pride**_  
_**To let you go, to let you be alone.**_

Eric didn't allow himself to hesitate any longer. He continued, speaking those six words he had never intended to let fall from his lips to her ears:

"Pamela Swynford de Beaufort, as your maker, I release you."

Six words.

That's all it took to end over a century of nights spent together, killing, and f*cking, and laughing.

Six words brought a swift, extremely painful end to what he had planned on being an eternity of immutable mutual allegiance to their exceptionally close bond.

And then she was gone from his sight.

Forever.

_**I never knew it would hurt like this**_  
_**To let someone go against my wishes**_  
_**All I can do is hope and pray**_  
_**That you'll find your way**_

* * *

He couldn't bear to go home and witness her exodus; he'd be there, all alone, soon enough.

So, he sat in his office, which was still in disarray from a few nights earlier when she lost her mind in there, staring at the small, dried droplets of her blood tears that still stained the floor by the door.

The emptiness inside engulfed him.

Previously, he had thought that the pain he felt as his own maker met the sun was a force to be reckoned with, well, it was nothing compared to this. Releasing her at all, much less in the manner he had, was not something he'd ever considered.

Suddenly, guilt and regret settled in.

In over a hundred years, he'd never encouraged her to strike out on her own, and she'd never wanted to, as most vampires eventually do. It wasn't that he didn't think she was capable of surviving without him, quite the opposite, in fact. Now he felt every inch the selfish bastard he was. Maybe if he hadn't indulged her so - nay, indulged _himself_ with regard to her, maybe this wouldn't have been so painful, maybe she wouldn't have asked for release at all...

He sighed aloud. What was the use in pondering?

It was done.

He had f*cked up.

Hard.

He loved Pam as much as she had loved him, but now they were nothing, separated, broken. It was just as he had told her: everything ends, even the immortals.

The agonizing tear he'd felt rip through their extraordinary bond as he said the words freeing her from him once and for all was excruciating: he was surprised he wasn't physically bleeding from its effects. He hoped that it hadn't been as painful for her.

He admonished himself; he needed to stop doing that, she was on her own now, and he needed to stop worrying over things beyond his control.

But old habits die hard.

He'd always thought that he could protect her better than anyone; it was something he prided himself on. It was that arrogance that brought him to this point, and here he was, sitting alone, heartbroken and bloodstained.

_**I never knew it would hurt like this**_  
_**To let someone go against my wishes**_  
_**All I can do is hope and pray**_  
_**That you'll find your way**_

He loved her, and so he let her go.

* * *

**Songs quoted throughout are "I Never Knew" and "Lost & Defeated," both by Sarah Blasko.**


End file.
